January 9, 2008

I’ve always tended to be a private person, never feeling compelled to share everything with everyone I met. That said, it’s a little odd sharing my experiences through such a public channel, but I guess it’s part of growing as a person.

My best friend (well, practically a former friend now) of nearly ten years was one of the few people that I shared my fertility struggles with over the years, and she seemed to understand. At the very least, she was sympathetic. Then, having married nearly five years after me and having her son two years later, she began to change. It was the start of a small rift. It wasn’t anything that was spoken aloud, but I felt it. We still got together as girlfriends and went out with the husbands quite frequently, but the closeness and sharing that had gone on previously was stunted.

Nearly three years later, through the wonders of IVF, I became pregnant with twins. I was over the moon! When I told my friend, she confided that she, too, was pregnant – about four weeks ahead of me. When I miscarried at 11 weeks, I was devastated, but her pregnancy went along as planned. Her daughter was born and I did my best to be supportive although I was dying inside. Now, with two children, the commonalities that once brought us together faded into the background. These two little ones were her world, and who was I to blame her?

Time passed, and we got together less and less until our relationship seemed to exist only electronically. It was less painful for me to communicate via e-mail, and she didn’t seem to mind. One rare evening when we were out with the husbands, nearly 18 months ago, I let slip my true feelings about not having felt supported by her. Maybe it was the wine talking, but this normally quiet and calm individual let me have it. She told me I couldn’t possibly understand the sacrifices she makes as a mother just as she couldn’t understand how I feel and what I’m going through because she’s never dealt with infertility. Okay, fine. I guess she was right, but she couldn’t have found a more hurtful way to bring to light that our friendship had just about reached its end.

It’s now been about seven months since we’ve seen one another or had a meaningful conversation, but the loss of this friendship stays with me. Over the recent holidays, something inside kept telling me to reach out to her and forgive and forget, but I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know if I have it in me. I keep thinking that maybe once my husband and I are finally united with our child through adoption, it will be an opportunity to rekindle our friendship, but I struggle to decide whether or not I even want to do that. Time will tell.